


Stage

by ShadowLink720



Series: Planeswarden Travellers [2]
Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, huge spoilers for endgame/postgame things, sort of a crossover, spoilers for primrose's chapter 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 18:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16246943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowLink720/pseuds/ShadowLink720
Summary: There are a near countless number of worlds that exist in parallel. They all mostly share similarities, but some worlds differ more than others. Sometimes, one difference can bring the world in question to an untimely end.There is one string of worlds, however, that has gained knowledge of this. Many who have lost their worlds have bound together in order to save others from their fates. When the task proves too great, they can at least grant any survivors a new home.Primrose goes looking for the man with the crow tattoo on his neck from a certain someone's directions.





	Stage

The right wing has been clipped.

All that remains of the crow is it’s head.

Revello helped Primrose out of the manse, her wounds made for difficulties in walking unsupported.

She hopes she can meet that thief, Therion, again - the one she had briefly travelled with. Alas, the two had parted after he gave advice on how to break into the manse of her target.

Chances are they will not cross paths again. A shame, but mayhap it was for the better.

Primrose understands why he did not want to get too involved. She likely wouldn’t either.

She spends the next few days recovering with the help of Revello and Anna Forsythe (Primrose had insisted it was not necessary, but they would not hear otherwise).

Now, though, she finds herself lost.

Albus, the right wing, had never so much as hinted at the location of the head.

 

Until, one day, someone familiar approaches her.

That someone being Simeon. Strange… did he not leave Noblecourt already?

He smiles. There is an odd stillness present in his eyes.

Primrose nods in greeting.

“I have heard you find yourself in uncertainty.” His voice is so calm, so sure of the words he choses.

Primrose hesitates, but she nods again. “There is… one last thing I need to do.”

He remains silent for a moment, before he moves to stand beside her against the wall of the bridge. “And… pray tell, what might that be?”

Primrose wonders if she can say anything.

… Maybe she can keep it vague.

“I am simply looking for someone.”

“What kind of someone? There are an awful lot of people in the world. You might be looking for a while.” His response is almost immediate. Words come so naturally to him.

“Someone with a specific tattoo.”

“I’m afraid that does little to narrow the list down, dear.”

“A crow tattoo. Here.” Hazel eyes flick over to watch Simeon as she raises her hand to demonstrate where the mark would be on her neck.

He closes his eyes, deep in thought.

“You know… I might know where you can find someone like that.”

Primrose turns her head to face him fully, doubt forming on her lips as she speaks. “Oh really? And where would that be?”

Simeon smiles again. “Somewhere deep in the Highlands.” A pause, as a nimble hand runs through his hair. “I believe I can lead you there, if you wish.”

Primrose almost immediately shakes her head. “No. What I have to do does not concern you.”

Simeon remains still for a moment, before he simply shrugs. “There is no changing your mind, is there…? Very well, but at least let me give you directions to the location in the ruins of Hornburg.”

Hornburg? … Perhaps it should not be surprising. With no human life there anymore - what better place is there to hide?

 

* * *

 

There are certainly ruins of life here. Or rather, a battle.

Banners dig deep into the ground, and there are even still some broken and discarded weapons and the remains of temporary camps.

She has not even encountered any monsters, which is what strikes her as the most odd.

The air is stagnant. Everything hauntingly still and quiet. It hardly feels natural.

What better place for a murderer to hide, should they be able to bear the choking atmosphere sown into the very land itself.

 

Simeon said she’d know what she was looking for when she sees it.

She thinks she has found it. A huge… gate of some kind.

Gods, it could not be less welcoming if it tried.

She swiftly makes her way down the slopes, and through the thin crevasse in the cliffs.

Primrose stops before she emerges into the open space in front of her, however.

There are people.

Not one, but **three**.

Despite the foreboding red glow emanating from the thin opening of this gate, she recognises two of the silhouettes.

It was Kit and Simeon, and they were with some woman Primrose has never encountered before.

Kit… Gods, what is Kit doing, walking into the hellish red haze like that!? The woman follows him in, too...

Simeon, however, does not move.

Primrose decides it’s time to make her presence known. Once she is free of the confines of the crevasse, she calls to Simeon.

He turns to face her, and raises his arms in a beckoning gesture. “Ah, Primrose! How lovely you could make it! There is no need to worry, the best act has yet to begin.”

Cold eyes narrow as she struggles to make out Simeon’s exact expression, the light from the gate casts too many shadows.

“What is that, Simeon? Who was that woman you were just with?” She knows how to hide any possible quiver in her voice.

“Oh? So you were around to see the beginning, I see…” He turns his back to face the gate again and throws his arms up. “This, my dear, is the Gate of Finis. And the woman goes by the name Lyblac. She is about to begin the greatest, most extravagant play to ever exist.”

“What do you mean by that?” Primrose is getting impatient, and it is clear in her voice. Why in the Gods’ names was Simeon even here? Where was the leader of the Obsidians?

…

… No. Perish the thought.

“Shh… ‘Tis rude to speak during a performance. Don’t you know?” Simeon flicks a hand towards her, causing a cloud of magic to fly into her throat. The sensation is strange, and she tries to cough it back up again. It seems to get trapped in her throat, however.

She tries to speak.

Again, nothing.

Simeon, like some hypocrite, decides to answer her question only now. “We, my dear, will witness firsthand the resurrection of Galdera, and the destruction of the world. You should be thankful that you get to know this information...”

He turns to face her again, hands undoing the scarf obscuring most of his neck.

Despite the light from the gate, it is all too clear what Simeon is showing her.

She has found the head of the crow.

All along.

Simeon, all along.

A cruel twist of fate.

But the fates have always been cruel. They have always worked against her.

So maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised.

Disgust, hatred, sorrow, rage. A myriad of emotions, most she cannot even name, amalgamates within her throat. None of it can escape because of that cloud.

Simeon bows with a flourish. “I congratulate you, Primrose. You have found your father’s murderer at last.”

The earth begins to rumble, and Simeon turns back to the Gate.

Primrose sees her chance.

She lunges for Simeon, dagger gripped tightly. In a swift motion, one arm is wrapped firmly around his cursed neck, and the other drives the dagger deep into his chest. The blade slides between his ribs, piercing his heart.

There are some guttural noises. There must be some blood collecting in his throat. She twists the blade.

His arms have fallen limp, lifeless. For a fleeting moment, Primrose had noticed the look in his eyes. ‘ _‘Tis a shame._ ’ they told her, ‘ _To see your face as it happens was the part I had been anticipating the most._ ’

She lets go. With a thud, his body falls.

Much like the sound the body of her father made, all those years ago.

It takes a great deal of willpower to keep her expression stoic. She will not grant that satisfaction even as his newly made corpse lies in his now pooling blood.

Her focus is now directed towards that ceaseless rumbling.

There is… something emerging from the gate. The doors are opening wider.

Primrose knows she needs to fall back, but her feet stay rooted. Her gaze remains on the gate.

Someone’s voice rings out from behind her. Telling her to get away.

That voice is enough to snap her out of her daze, and she wastes no time getting back through the crevasse.

She runs into the owner of the voice, a man who seems to be younger than her. His hair seems a mess. He has company, too, a woman whose hair seems long enough to almost reach her knees.

The rumbling only grows.

“Are you hurt?” There is a vague familiarity in the man’s eyes.

Ah, right. It’s a similar look to the apothecary from the Riverlands had - gentle and kind, but with a strong fire behind them.

She opens her mouth to speak, but is promptly reminded that she cannot.

The woman realises it, and she tries to quickly cast a spell. She mutters something quietly. Something like ‘esuna’...?

Whatever it was, it worked.

Primrose places a hand over her throat, it feels clear again.

“... Thank you.” she whispers, as her voice begins to recover.

She then turns to the man, now that she can answer. “No. Not yet at least.”

A roar. It turns the world to ice.

The woman clasps a pendant near her chest, muttering something. It sounds like a prayer of sorts.

The man just stares in the direction of the blood chilling presence. Despite it, they seem… oddly calm?

He does not move his gaze when he addresses Primrose again. “That thing… do you know what it is?”

A light shake of her head. “I don’t know, but… I have reason to suspect it might be Galdera, the Fallen.”

“A deity, I presume?” The woman’s voice, gentle as it is, has a remarkable strength behind it.

Primrose nods this time.

The two newcomers are quiet for a few moments, before they cast a glance over to Primrose.

“Then we can’t engage it for too long… But Agnès and I can buy time for you to get away.” The man holds some kind of stone out to Primrose, wanting her to take it.

The woman, Agnès, nods in agreement.

Were they _mad_?

But alas, there was little time. Judging by the end of the earth’s tremors, the Fallen must have gotten out of the Gate.

Gods, could the other two even feel the sheer force of its presence? Have they realised the stench of death and decay now in the air?

Agnès looks back over to Primrose, and gives her the stone. “Please, Tiz and I will do what we can. Just please escape from here.”

Primrose continues to refuse.

“And just what makes you think I can even trust you?” She cannot deny that she wants to, but they do not need to know that.

The next thing she knows, Galdera stands before the three of them.

Primrose feels like her head might explode with the pressure it seems to exert.

There is something resounding in her brain. A voice.

 _  
_ _‘O vengeful soul, allow me to grant the highest honour I have to give.’_

_‘We shall consume it all.... The world... The_ **_Gods_ ** _...’_

_‘There will be only Galdera. For now and eternity.’_

 

Primrose has no time to register anything else that happens, but she faintly hears Agnès and Tiz shouting something, before she is forcefully pushed backwards.

There is a strange sensation, one that runs through her entire being.

It feels like flying.

Or perhaps it is falling.

The ground she lands on is not the stone, grass and dirt of the Highlands.

Primrose comes back to her senses moments after the sensation leaves her.

She is not in the Highlands anymore.

Instead, it is some strange… building?

Her legs feel too unsteady for her to stand, but she feels strangely light.

She does not have the strength to move. She is so tired...

 

* * *

 

Any sleep she has is filled with nightmares.

Of what she has done, of Geoffrey, of Simeon, of Galdera.

The onslaught only ends when she reawakens to a strange sound.

It’s the two who brought her here - Agnès and Tiz.

“Ah, sorry, did we wake you up?”

_‘Yes, and I am thankful for it.’_

She does not say it aloud, however. Primrose simply shakes her head and lies that she was already awake.

They seem to have taken bad looking wounds, but they have been treated and are now healing.

She decides to voice her concern.

“Are you sure you two can be up and about?”

Tiz rubs the back of his neck. “We’ll be fine for now.” Primrose doubts that, the two look like they can hardly stand. And given what they were up against it’s miraculous they even survived at all. He pauses, before his eyes cloud with worry. “What about you? How are you feeling?”

Primrose drops her gaze, unsure of how to answer.

How was she indeed.

Numb, but at the same time in pain all over.

The question goes unanswered. Instead, she changes the focus to what has been eating at her mind. “So, I... suppose Galdera is now loose.”

Agnès gives a pained sigh before she answers. “We did what we could, but… We could not act quickly enough. Galdera did not focus on us for long, no matter what we did.”

Tiz can see the query in her eyes, and speaks with a low voice. “There wasn’t anything we could do. Galdera continued to destroy your world no matter what we did. I’m… ah, words do so little, but we’re deeply sorry.”

Primrose still feels lost.

The two cast each other a glance, before they sit down next to Primrose.

Agnès speaks first. “Though we come from completely different worlds, both yours and ours exist in a string of near identical universes. I say ‘near’ because no world ends up the same as another. Some differ more than others, too. And… sometimes the differences are enough to bring the world in question to its end.”

Tiz is the one to continue. “Agnès and I… Or, actually, almost everyone here, have come from a destroyed world. This place is the Planeswarden Headquarters, and it’s… essentially our new home.”

This is a lot to take in. They both seem to notice that.

Tiz speaks up again. “You know, if you wanted… I’m sure you could become a Planeswarden yourself.”

Primrose’s gaze snaps back up to look at him properly.

Agnès nods. “Of course, the choice is yours in the end. And we can give you some time to think about it-”

“I’ll do it.”

They both look surprised.

“I’ll do it.” Primrose says again. “I have avenged my father like I said I would, but…” She has felt no sense of peace yet, no satisfaction. “I had… spent so much of my life trying to exact vengeance, but I did not consider what I would do once it was done.”

A thin veil of silence falls for a few moments.

“I have nothing left, but I did not have much to begin with. So I will take up your offer. I will do all I can to prevent anyone from experiencing a life similar to mine.”

 

There is something oddly familiar with these two. She feels in her heart that she can trust them.

The fire that burned so brightly in her before had so quickly - so quietly - died.

These two, however, had given her something. A chance to rekindle it.

And by the the bloodied dagger ever at her side and the words engraved on her heart, she will see it becomes an inferno.

**Author's Note:**

> The second part of the Planeswarden Travellers AU! Which is chronologically the first one! Yeah, I know it's. weird.  
> The moral of this one is if Simeon happens to have a heart, stab him in it.  
> (the designs and some brief/vague notes here - https://linkys-art.tumblr.com/post/178706249268/planeswarden-travellers)


End file.
